


like ashes and embers

by beenicetobees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Bad Parent John Winchester, Captivity, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Prince Dean Winchester, Psychic Sam Winchester, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beenicetobees/pseuds/beenicetobees
Summary: Prince Castiel is perfectly willing to marry into the Winchester throne for his family, really, he is, but does it have to be so soon? Luckily Prince Dean seems kind, and he's handsome enough, even if he's not Castiel's type. After all, it's not like he had any other options. After the death the king's second born son, Dean is the only surviving heir in the Winchester royal line.But a night of exploring leads him to discover that that's not quite true. What other family secrets are the Winchesters holding?
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Lee Webb/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	like ashes and embers

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from Exeunt by the Oh Hellos

“Castiel, the carriage is ready, make haste!”

Castiel sighed as Uriel’s booming voice echoed down the hallway. The royal advisor had never been one for sentimentality, and of course the most important day of Castiel’s life would not prove to be an exception. He turned to give one last look to Hannah, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Go,” she urged, lightly pushing him on the chest, “maybe he’s handsome!” The pain in her eyes was thinly masked, and it only got more pronounced as he set his shoulders to walk away. He paused.

“You know I’ll come back to visit you, right?” he asked. She nodded minutely, and clenched her jaw. She was trying not to cry. “And you can talk to any of my brothers and sisters whenever you like.” She laughed bitterly.

“You know for a fact that’s not true Castiel. What would they want with a servant's daughter?” He sighed. She was right, as always.

“Well, Anna, at least,” he begged. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her here all alone. She hummed in agreement, and pulled him into one last hug.

“Promise you’ll write?” she pleaded, pushing him back by the shoulders to look him in the eyes.

“Of course.”

“Castiel!” he could hear the heavy footsteps of Uriel coming down the hallway, which was his cue to run as quickly as possible towards the main entrance. He skidded to a halt before he ran into the large frame of his mentor, grimacing as he saw the disappointed look the man was giving him.

“Apologies, sir, I was just giving last goodbyes.” He looked down at his boots.

“Castiel, we do not have time for these foolish niceties. We cannot be late to this meeting. You do remember how important this is, do you not?”

“Yes, but I-”

“No!” Uriel cut him off, “Cease this behavior at once, we cannot have you acting so improper when you meet the prince. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Castiel agreed. At his promise of obedience, Uriel turned on his heel and walked back towards the carriage, Castiel close behind. They climbed into the car, and Castiel prepared himself for a long and awkward journey to the Winchester palace.

At third in line for the throne, Castiel was nothing more than a political bargaining piece. He knew this, he had known this ever since Michael took the throne. It didn’t bother him. He knew his place in their family, and he would do anything to repair the reputation they had gotten recently, what with Lucifer being banished and Gabriel going mad, but he just wished they could wait a little bit longer before he was shipped away to marry a man he had never met. But he wouldn’t complain. There were much worse fates, and he knew it. After all, what else was there to do?

The castle was old fashioned, made of large blocks of dark stone that felt foreign to Castiel, who had grown up surrounded by smooth white marble. At first the building looked frightening, and he shuddered at the sight of it, but he schooled himself carefully before Uriel could see. Castiel was many things, but impolite was not one of him. He would approach the palace and the royalty inside of it with practiced dignity, just as he did everything else. He would make his family proud, and he would strengthen the relations between the kingdoms. This was his birthright, and by God, he would live up to it.

They made their way up to the palace doors, and Uriel took the large lion head door knocker firmly in his hand to give three sharp knocks. The door opened immediately, revealing a short young servant girl with blonde hair. His heart pinched slightly as he remembered Hannah, and he decided to write her as soon as he got settled.

The girl looked them up and down, eyes lingering on the crown that had hastily been fastened to Castiel’s head, before nodding and stepping aside to let them pass.

“Follow me,” she said as she began to make her way down the hall, “Dean’s been excited to meet you.”

There were portraits lining the long hall leading up to the room that would presumably hold the prince. A family of three smiled down at the group, the baby getting older and older with each new painting. In the fourth painting, a second child was born. Castiel had never seen official portraits that looked so happy before. But the oil-paint grins vanished when the queen disappeared, and the younger son looked as though his sullen face had never known joy. In the last four portraits, the frames held only two figures. King John and his son Dean stared blankly at Castiel, who suddenly felt the fear of what was about to come rear its ugly head once again, and he had no time to push it back down before the tall double doors opened onto a majestic throne room.

“Your Majesty, his Royal Highness Castiel Serafim, Prince of New Heaven.”

He barely figured out why everyone was looking at him before he was being pushed forward, but he caught his footing and approached the two men standing at the end of the long rug. He bowed in greeting as the king looked him over. The prince stood very still, but his eyes sparkled when Castiel greeted him.

“You will be a fine groom for my son,” the king announced, “the wedding will be in three weeks. I trust you will be prepared?” he asked, addressing Castiel, who gave a sharp nod, “Very well. Jo, take the prince and his advisor to their rooms.”

The girl (Jo) nodded, and gave a quiet “Yes your majesty, sir,” before gesturing for them to follow her. Castiel and Uriel’s rooms were across the hall from one another, though Castiel’s was significantly bigger. Their bags had been brought in and unpacked already, and Castiel smiled as he saw that the tattered stuffed bumble-bee he had secretly shoved into his luggage had been gently laid upon his pillow. Perhaps this arrangement wouldn’t be too bad after all.

“Dinner will be in three hours. My mother or I will come and fetch you. If you need anything, too bad.” Out of the watchful eyes of the king, Jo’s posture had relaxed significantly, and Castiel could tell she was joking. He gave her a small smile, which she returned. Uriel huffed angrily.

“Is that any way to address royalty?” he scolded. Jo dropped her head and lost her smile.

“No sir, apologies sir,” she mumbled, and then quickly scurried off. Castiel sighed at Uriel’s demeanor once more, but there wasn’t much to do about it now. They both closed their doors to settle into their new rooms.

Castiel had barely sat down before he heard a knock at the door. In opening it, he was surprised to see the prince standing in the hallway, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Um,” Castiel started, not quite sure what was happening, “Good evening, your highness,” he balked as the prince extended a hand to him, hesitating a few moments before taking it in greeting.

“I’m Dean. It’s a pleasure,” the prince shook his hand vigorously, “I just thought we should actually meet before we get married.” Castiel had never been more confused by an interaction in his entire life.

“Um. Hello,” he rubbed his wrist as Dean broke off the handshake, “I am Castiel.”

“Hey Castiel! It’s nice to meet you.”

“And I you,” he replied. Dean laughed.

“Are you really this stuck up in real life? I thought it was just a throne room act.”

“I’m not stuck up!” Castiel retorted childishly before biting his cheek.

“Sure you’re not. Anyway, I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out before the wedding, not today of course, you’re tired, but we have three weeks to kill!” Castiel slowly nodded. Honestly, he was grateful to know that he would have something to do while he waited.

“Awesome! See ya around, Cas!” Dean was gone before Castiel could even process the nickname he had been given. Dazed, he closed the door and sat back down on his bed. Maybe being married to Dean wouldn’t be too bad. He was handsome enough, even if he wasn’t Castiel’s type, and he seemed kind. Eager to get to know him. He was confusing, but Castiel could work with that. He wrote all of these thoughts out in his letter to Hannah, which he gave to Jo to send as she escorted them to dinner.

Dinner was delicious, if mostly uneventful. No one spoke the entire meal, and Dean kept his head down to his plate, avoiding his father’s gaze. He was terrified, Castiel could tell. _Takes one to know one _,__ said Gabriel’s voice in his head.

Castiel told him to shut up.

It wasn’t until the head of the kitchen staff brought out dessert did anything remotely interesting happen. When he placed Dean’s cake in front of him, Castiel could have sworn that his hand purposely brushed Dean’s. Dean’s eyes got wider, and he glanced to the side where his father was sitting. As the servant moved away, Dean’s eyes lingered on him a little too long, and Castiel swore there was a ghost of a smile on his carefully controlled face.

Ah. So Dean and he would be just friends then. Honestly he was glad, he didn’t want to have to force a romantic relationship where there was none. As Dean’s gaze returned to his plate, Castiel caught his eye. He raised his eyebrow, and Dean flushed sheepishly. Castiel smiled to let him know it was okay, but Dean’s eyes had already returned to his mashed potatoes. Oh well, Castiel would seek him out later to tell him it was alright.

After dinner, Uriel went straight to bed, and told Castiel to do the same. It had been a long journey. Castiel almost did what he was told, but as the clock struck eleven he could not help but feel his curiosity overtake him. Quietly as he could, he lit the lantern next to his bed and snuck into the dark hallway.

All doors were closed, and it was silent save for the snores of his royal advisor. He padded down the hall, the opposite direction from the throne and dining room. At the end of it he found a beautiful and extensive library, that he vowed to go back to once it was light.

To the right of the library was a door out to the garden, the flowers silhouetted in the moonlight in a way that made it look as though thorny vines had overtaken the entire patio.

To the left of the library Castiel found a small chapel. There were only five rows of pews, and a small pulpit at the far end. Stained glass went all the way to the ceiling, and Castiel knew that when the sun came through in the morning, this room would be the most beautiful one in the palace. Despite that, a thick layer of dust covered everything in the chapel, as though nobody had prayed inside for years. Castiel’s heart hurt a bit at the thought of such a lovely place of worship being abandoned like that, and hoped that when he married the prince he could bring faith back into the palace.

As he turned to leave the chapel, he stopped. He swore that he could hear something, something faint. He stepped back into the room and listened harder, moving towards the sound. His ears led him to a closet door next to the pulpit, before the room jutted out for the stained glass. He pressed his ear to the door, and sure enough, he could hear someone praying. Quiet yet desperate Hail Mary’s drifted from inside the closet. Excited to find someone else in this palace who believed, he opened the door.

It was unlocked, and instead of a closet like he had been expecting, the door led to a flight of stairs. Castiel was climbing them before he could even stop to think that maybe whoever was praying for forgiveness might not want to be interrupted.

The stairs opened out into a small room, lit by a single candle. Castiel squinted in the low light, lifting his lantern to look around. The prayers stopped.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Castiel gasped, dropping the lantern and shattering the glass. The light remained aflame, allowing Castiel to see all of the sight in front of him.

The boy was kneeling in the center of the room, his clothes tattered and his wrists and ankles shackled to the floor. He was thin, and tall, and his hair was long enough to fall in his face. His sunken eyes looked up at Castiel in shock.

“Who are you?” He asked.

**Author's Note:**

> Excited about this one, folks. I have the whole thing outlined so I think I'll finish this one! Fingers crossed, especially since winter break is coming up. Anyway, please leave a comment if you liked it, they'll motivate me to get off my ass and write more.


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